


Gold Foil

by Utofff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 22:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Utofff/pseuds/Utofff
Summary: It was a surreal sight to watch someone get knocked out cold to the acoustic beginning of Sheryl Crow's "Strong Enough"I dont know why this is in my head, it's just been there for a few years now and I vomited it out.I think there will be another chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a surreal sight to watch someone get knocked out cold to the acoustic beginning of Sheryl Crow's "Strong Enough"

But that's what you got in HotPies prep kitchen when you questioned the omnipotent glittering peak iPods music taste.

Or specifically when you questioned the owner of the( battered, missing a few rhinestones, early model) iPod, Sandor Clegane.

HotPie's head chef wasn't one of those over the top yelling celebrity chef wannabes. He didn't yell, he spoke largely, because he was a large man and kitchens were loud. He was crass and tattooed and drank too much, but that was all chefs really.

If a mistake in the kitchen was made, the culprit wasn't berated or belittled (unless it was Brienne, who should have known better) they were sternly corrected and put on the right path.

For all of Cleganes intimidating appearance (his facial scars didn't help in this respect either), he really was a good boss as far as kitchens go.

Until you critiqued his music choices.

Hot Pie, the namesake and owner, had to pay off one or two opinionated music critics. Bronn had warned them, he always warned them. Most listened and merely complained at after shift drinks. It was only ever when the head chef was present that the small early 2000s iPod ruled the prep kitchen by its owners side. Other than that it was a democratic system to pick the music.

Unlike the appearance of its owner, the iPod was exactly what it presented on the outside on the inside. It was a void of bubblegum pop, 90s "indie chick music" ("What does that even mean Bronn?" Brienne would always protest), a few singable oldies and showtunes and bad throwback dance rap.

And it was always perpetually on shuffle of about 200 songs. Over and over and over again and again and again. For hours it would croon out when its master brought it with him, plugged into the aux and set it on the highest most revenant shelf he could find.

Bronn, who had been in Cleganes kitchen the longest after Brienne, had almost assisted the ipod with an early demise when Brienne had caught him hovering a sauce pan and stomping past the shelf it was perched on.

She'd shook her head somberly and took him out back and told him of The Fall. Clegane himself had dropped the iPod one fateful day after being distracted by a trial pastry chef burning the sugar on a creme brulee.

"Fucking GENTLY, you're supposed to caramelize it not make it look like my fucking fa-" In Clegane's dash to rescue the custard he'd knocked the shelf and it had clattered to the floor, the aux cord ripping from the port. Brienne had never heard a kitchen so silent.

Clegane had gone to his /knees/ to cradle the garish little music box and Brienne had tried to console him, it was time he upgraded anyway, they had better models these days. She was also secretly relieved it might be replaced. She had a hunch he had no idea how to put new music on it and must have bought a cheap Brittney Spears promotional model and never had the pride to change it.

She'd seen Clegane in all kinds of kitchen related injuries. Burns (those he swore at full tilt, but moved on), cuts, scraps, heavy objects dropped on feet, all met with little more than a "Fuck!" and a move on. But the man before her now was almost close to tears. "I can't get a new one. It's one of a kind." He avoided her eyes as he squired the small item into the smaller back office and slammed the door.

Two minutes later he'd appeared through the door and quietly asked if she knew anything about iPods. Her expertise hadn't been needed other than to tell him the giant case it was in seemed to do a fine job and he should place it on a sturdier shelf.

She'd also been the first to warn Bronn about not saying anything. He hadn't, but it'd also not stopped him from his attempted sabotage until she had recounted The Fall. The story had chilled him in an unexpected way.

He'd then taken up the mantle of warning new staff not to comment and simply learned to drown out his least favorite and appreciate the ones he liked.

One of Bronn's favorites was "Mr. Big Stuff" and depending on those on shift his bleating along to the music was either met with groans or a choir of fans.

All of the staff had their favorites, (Brienne was partial to the Cheryl Crow) and Hot Pie would rush to the kitchen to belt out the climax of "Memory" every chance he got.

Bronn had thought Cleganes had been "Would I Lie To You" as he'd seen him bob his head ever so slightly, but he'd been mistaken.

Bronn had strolled in for his shift one day at the end of the song and remarked "Oi, have you heard the cover of this one? That pop star Sansa Starks just come out with it. Heard it on the radio at least 4 times this morning."

Clegane had gone stiff than stabbed the knife he'd been using into the block.  
"I don't listen to that pop shit. Hand me the salt, no the kosher."

The staff had looked at each other quizzically as Celgane cranked the tiny wheel up louder on Brittney Spears "She's so Lucky" and shouted at everyone to get on with their business they opened in 3 hours.

Then one day the siren of the kitchen was conspicuously missing.

They had a guest chef, the financial backer and old protege of Cleganes, Arya Stark who had branched out to do that "Noncy poncy eastern fusion crap"

"Westerosi food is crap, but you make it the best, so take the damn job and shut your stupid giant face." Arya had shouted at him when she'd told him she'd be leaving the Eyrie Bar and Lounge to start her own venture. "Westerosi food is NOT crap, its meat and potatoes, but good solid, fresh ingredients. It's not pretentious- something as simple as browned butter can-" "God, you and Hot Pie are made for each other, take your damn pies and your browned fat and my money and open the damn restaurant!"

So they had. Hot Pie was more of an ideas man, he liked cooking as a hobby, but had decided he'd leave the heavy lifting to a heavy lifter. HotPies had been open and going strong two years now when it's financier returned.

Brienne was on the other end of the empty kitchen finishing some notes as Clegane and Stark toured the kitchen. Arya had finished her inspection of the meat locker and was scrutinizing the edge on Cleganes favorite meat cleaver as she remarked, "I brought you a ticket. It's her unplugged show. Hot Pie and I are going, you should tag along." She produced a ticket from her back pocket and held it up to Clegane.

Brienne hadn't been paying too much attention until she heard the torch click on and turned to witness the ticket going up in ash and dropped to the floor.

"Sprinkle it on your latest appetizer and call it upcycled ash." Brienne watched wide eyed as he stomped off to his office followed by an exasperated tiny Arya.

There was some muffled voices and then "I don't know why either! But she finally ditched that Baelish creep as her agent and now even I can stand her music. She's really good!"

"I KNOW SHE IS. She's always been talented! Took her fucking long enough to realize she didnt need all the pop bullshit to show it off." Then a crash. The door swung open and Arya stormed out to grab a pan and start the guest dish she'd come to make.

"I don't know what happened but you're both idiots and it's been 5 years and you both need to get over it so that I don't have to hear about it anymore!"

"You've only been speaking for 6 months now!"

"Well it feels like 5! She never shuts up about eating here and then never making a reservation and then just singing sad songs and staring out a window when I say how much Hot Pie is a fan and would kill to have her eat here."

"Who am I a fan of? Is it Brienne? Arya she makes amazing sauces, you need to try."

Hot Pie had entered and brought Cleganes and Aryas attention to Briennes attention.

"They're decent. I was just leaving."

"They're bloody brilliant or I wouldn't have them in my kitchen. Stay. Arya can show you how to do an eggless base, you're always on about that health crap."

Arya eyed Clegane for a moment and then nodded Brienne over to her station. "Hot Pie I'd like a word about resturaunt promotion later... this guest chef thing was a good idea, but I have a... jazzier idea I think you'd like." As Brienne neared and Celgane turned to tidy his office he ground out, "No fucking gold foil on anything" "Food is 50% astetic 50% taste! I've always told you that!" He scowled at her but froze in his scoop to dust up the earlier charred ticket, "And trust me you're going to like it Mr. Big Stuff"

"YOU'RE NEVER GONNA GET MY LOOOOVE" Bronn finished the chorus as he arrived for the evening.

His arms deflated from his bravado stance when he was met with 4 blank stares. "What? It's like pavlovian at this point."

"Bronn. Office. I need your count on the wine, Brienne never does it right."

"Alright just- hang on, I haven't seen you look this down since the last aux cord snapped, what's happened to it now? I don't hear "Clumsy" that always follows "Mr. Big Stuff"" Bronn was genuine in his concern, he liked Sandor, he was a good boss, despite his questionable taste.

"I said fucking Office. Now."

Arya stared daggers at Clegane as Bronn followed him in.

"Hot Pie, how'd you like to meet Sansa Stark. You Brienne?"

Hot Pie looked like he might swoon. "I knew it! I knew it wasn't a coincidence! She is your sister isn't she?"

Arya ignored this and instead raised a questioning eyebrow, that was alarmingly too much like the scarred man in the offices, to Brienne.

"I love her recent work, wasn't much into the early teen sound, but the acoustic is very nice." Brienne looked apologetic at the singer she was critiquings sister.

"Nah you're right, it was all over produced. Fucking Baelish." Brienne vaguely knew the name through a sort of cultural osmosis as a big shot producer. She also knew there had been some sort of scandal and Sansa Stark's fourth album had been cancelled along with her career. Until the former pop star had dropped a gritty cell phone quality video of a haunting acoustic version of her earliest hit on YouTube and racked up several million hits and a new record deal. Now her fourth album was going to be released and it was such news even Brienne, who wasn't entirely "hip with it" knew about it.

Arya was gathering supplies as she continued "I'd have given you the ticket Hot Pie if that idiot hadn't been such a drama queen. But I think I can do you one better. What would you say about a special live music performance right here at Hot Pie's? I might know someone who needs a venue for a debut performance?"

Brienne had to cover her ears to the shrill sound of Hot Pies enthusiastic response.

______

The iPod was back after Aryas successful guest appearance.

It was back and it was sparklier and chunkier than ever. It had been for a month.

And it was playing "Bye Bye Bye" at the top of its lungs when Hot Pie swung into the back kitchen with his big news.

"Sandor could you pause it please? Thank you. Attention everyone. All right, I've kept it secret as long as I can, but I FINALLY get to make all your nights." The almost full staff had all huddled paused their tasks to give their bosses boss their full attention.

Hot Pie looked around with his hand clutched to his chest and as he looked around, looking more ready to burst with his news than his usual stuffed sausage physique.

"Sansa Stark will be playing her debut album here. Tonight. In this restaurant. With our food. With your food Sandor. Imagine! One of the queens of pop we love so much! Right. Here. Eating a pie!"

There was an excited murmur. She was incredibly famous, even if they weren't huge fans, everyone still knew her name.

Clegane was not as pleased. He threw down his towel as he glared at his boss, "I don't like bloody pop music. And I'm not gonna ponce around this kitchen while you all wet yourselves trying to impress some rich tart. Brienne take this over."

"But, but you listen to all the greatest hits, you're a bigger pop fan than I am?!"

"I Don't. Like. Bloody. Pop." He growled out as he reached for his ipod that could be the poster child for the offending genre.

"Where are you-" "I'm taking a sick day." Hot Pie stood dumbfounded and looked at Brienne and Bronn for help as his head chef abandoned him, "But you aren't even sick..." "I havent had one in two fucking years, I'm taking one."

Clegane was approaching his office presumably for his keys when a lyrical voice stopped everyone short, "I'm sorry to hear that. I was looking forward to finally having more of that mac and cheese..."

_____  
The comment was largely ignored as everyone swarmed the gorgeous redheaded mac and cheese fan.

Bronn had seen his share of pretty woman, but this girl was beautiful, ethereal, otherworldly. He liked her voice too.

There was excited questions and declarations of being big fans and she slowly drew her eyes away from the large man frozen in his office doorway. He seemed to be stuck there until she'd turned her gaze to Hot Pies enthusiastic menu explanation and gave him a winning grin.

Brienne and Bronn shared a steady glance over their coworkers heads. They didn't want to be responsible for tonight. They were both confident in their skill set and could take over a kitchen with ease any other night. But tonight they had a feeling the normally gregarious owner would be scrutinizing everything for his special guests that much more and neither one wanted the credit.

With a nod Brienne who was closer, grabbed Cleganes arm and drug him to the back alley as he clutched his ipod and continued to stare open mouthed at the pop star. Bronn had procured a chilled bottle of Grey Goose and met them out there.

"Allright spill it. You have a creepy shrine to her in your closet or something? Are you her stalker and now you've been caught" Brienne had interrogated after allowing Clegane several throwbacks of the vodka.

"This is overpriced garbage, why do we have this? And fucking no I'm not a fucking stalker."

"Relax, it's my own bottle and answer her other question. About the shrine."

"Fuck off."

"I'll punch you. I don't want to take the heat on tonight with Hot Pie with his knickers in a twist and I know Bronn won't take it either. If I have to beat it out of you I will, but you're working tonight. Now spill."

Clegane looked ready to take the hit.

"I mean, what is it? You can't hate her music that much. I heard you burned up the ticket but mate, you do listen to a lot of pop."

"There's other songs in their, not just bloody pop music." He fingered the rhinestones as if they were a rosary.

"Its 90% stuff just like Sansa Stark. I mean come on. And what was that mac and cheese comment-?"

"It was bloody boxed too. I can't believe she remembers that..."

"You've made Sansa Stark, two year running sexiest woman alive by a bunch of fucking magazines, Sansa Stark boxed mac and cheese?" Bronn questioned incredulously.

Clegane paused for a long while, then swiped the bottle and took a large pull. He handed the ipod to Brienne.

"Take off the cover."

Brienne looked for help at Bronn who just shrugged and stole the bottle back for a pull as he watched her fumble with it.

When she finally pried it open it was acid pink. She didn't remember them making them this color. She looked at it and then her boss dumbly.

"The back. The inscription."

It was in gold, Brienne was starting to suspect it was real gold, and read:

"To Sansa, love mum and dad xoxo"

"I was kidding about the stalker thing, but..."

"Fuck's sake I took it before she was famous. I didn't take it, I just I didnt give it back..." he trailed off.

"It's still pretty stalkery to steal a girl's stuff Sandor, whether or not she's famous." Brienne was starting to get a bit skeeved.

He was doubled over with his head in his hands trying to find the words "No, fuck's sake. She always told me to get one and so when she left..."

"I can't believe it was you. I looked forever for that."

Clegane shot up as if his commanding officer had just entered instead of the delicate young pop star. Bronn was surprised he didn't salute.

He was looking over her head when he blurted at her, "Miss. Stark. I'm sorry. I've kept it in its case, it should be fine. Brienne give it to her."

Brienne handed the unassembled ipod back to its original mistress. The singer cupped it and the case as reverently as Sandor had. "This is the only part I missed really." She indicated to the engraving. "I had the money for another one, but it was the last gift they got me... thank you for holding on to it for me."

He gave a stiff nod and then stared at the floor.

"You should keep it, it probably has all that Metallica and classic rock you liked so much."

"I never changed it."

"What?"

"I never knew how to change it, didn't bother"

Now THAT was a fucking lie if Bronn had ever heard one. They'd seen the man use his smartphone, he wasn't as technically illiterate as he was making it out to be.

"That explains so much." Brienne voiced what Bronn had been thinking.

"Well I had enough Zeppelin on their to keep you entertained then I guess." She chuckled but Bronn was having none of it.

"What the fuck do you mean theres Zeppelin on it?" Bronn demanded.

"I've been listening to that stupid bloody insipid thing for TWO YEARS. There's no zeppelin. Just the same 200 songs over and over and over again." Brienne looked half as crazed as Bronn felt.

"200 songs? It's an older model but it holds up to 10,000, I had almost 9 on their?" She started scrolling through the menu "It's on a playlist, "Songs to Annoy Driver" with...." she gave the large man who looked like he'd like to be swallowed up by the ground a bemused look.

Brienne and Bronn missed all of this subterfuge in their exasperation at their boss, who had tortured them for two whole years.

"You had it on a fucking PLAYLIST!"

"WHY!??!" Brienne snatched the vodka she also thought was overpriced and took a drag.

Meanwhile Sandor had finally made eye contact with Sansa, the girl he used to drive around for his shit boss, and had the wind knocked out of him all over again.

Over the din of Brienne and Bronns protests, he was sucked back to the too big too expensive car and the barely legal young woman belting off key in the back seat as he drove her to the mall. He remembered adjusting his sunglasses so she couldn't see the grin in his eyes through the rear view mirror after he told her to cut it out. She'd just cranked "Mr. Big Stuff" louder.

She plucked the shoulder of the expensive suit his bosses made him wear during the line "fancy clothes" giggled at him and sat back to stare out the window, still singing loudly. But nicely, really nicely. He'd told her more than once if she was gonna make that racket she should at least try to get paid for it. "Maybe I will Sandor. Maybe I will. I'll even give you front row seats to my first concert." But then Joffrey would call for her and the gleam in her eye had died and he'd vowed he'd not complain about her singing again. Besides he wasn't lying to her. He never lied to her.

He'd threatened her, yelled at her, cursed at her, leered at her. But he'd always told her straight. Once shed caught on she'd stopped cowering from him and started trusting him. Then when Jofferey had started telling his cronies to slap her around he'd stopped it and patched her up anytime he could. Then she'd gotten bold. Tried to goad him. Instead hed just taken her insults on the chin and told her to keep her head down. When insults hadn't worked shed tried teasing and when she noticed that got a reaction she hadn't stopped. Her favorite way to tease him was by blasting music he hated while he squired her around. She'd even made a playlist, he didn't know that though. He just thought she only listened to "chick music" and listened to him try and expand her repertoire with music she was already very aware of. Her father and brothers had helped her cultivate a varied taste.

She had recently realized he almost blushed when she sang "Mr. Big Stuff" at him and had made it her standard when with him.

She was in the middle of the chorus when he switched from the aux to the radio to save himself from her teasing karaoke. It was a news broadcast he was ready to tune out and listen to her soft fake pouting sighs when he heard "Lannister", not unusual, "Bankruptcy", a bit worrying, and "Scandals", not unusual again.

He cranked it. He didn't care about the details, something about whistleblowing and post mortem paternity tests, but by the end Sandor knew he was out of a job.

He loosened his tie. Pulled over to a random burger spot. Went in ignoring Sansa's protest, came back with a milkshake and fries for her and 3 burgers for himself.

"It's shit, but, fuck it, it's what you eat to ruin a suit and celebrate with. I guess." He took a large bite and let various greasy debris fall on his suit pants.

"What does it mean? Tyrion will be in control now, he has to be the whistleblower."

He hadn't thought she'd been paying attention. He was prepping to tell her she was free. He didn't give up the chance to tell her even if it was extraneous.

"It means you're free. Tyrion will release your funds. You can leave." He glanced back at her and removed his sunglasses, it was getting dark, it was supposed to be a quick trip. He looked her in the eye. "It's what I'm gonna do. Leave."

She was quiet at that until,

"Can you just, just drive? Anywhere?" She asked in a small voice. It was the voice she used in front of Joffrey.

"Yeah. Fucking buckle up though."

He'd driven them to the coast and it was dark by then. He parked and pulled out the flask from his glove compartment took a swig and passed it back to her.

She took a hesitant sip and kept it. He suspected she didn't want him to get too drunk, she didn't prefer dealing with him drunk. He let her.

It was too cold to go out and he'd killed the lights but kept the radio on. He switched it back to aux. She played her father's favorite Louis Armstrong album. They both watched the moon rise over the ocean. It was almost romantic, Sansa thought.

They talked for a long time that night. They'd known each other for almost two years now. Sandor had been 21, aimless and a bouncer when Jofferey decided he liked the look of him and hired him as a private guard and driver. Then a year later Joff brought home The Jail Bait, 16 year old Sansa Stark. Vapid on Joffrey's arm, it hadn't escaped Sandor or any other of the male staff how hot she was. Or how out of her element she was. It had gone from bad to worse and then there'd been some legal stuff and she'd effectively been a prisoner for the past year as Joff and the Lannisters kept her from her family and safety nets. The Stark's thought she had money, so they didn't send anymore. The Lannisters had seized it. She had been stuck. And so had Sandor. Stuck because she was stuck and he couldn't leave her, so he was stuck. She'd turned 18 two months ago.

Just a thing Sandor had on his mind. It was funny how a number was just a number sometimes. He still felt like a perv as he glanced in the rearview mirror and up her skirt as she swung her legs at the knees thinking she had no audience.

Or knowing she had one.

He still wasn't sure how he'd ended up in the backseat. He remembered her calling his name. He remembered thinking he'd just leave it at making out. Then just going down on her. Then he remembered "Love Train" blaring out and remembered her crying out and remembered that was the only time he considered it "making love." At least it's what he'd tried to do. He didn't remember a song after "Love Train", had looked up the run time of the song later and hoped he'd made it at least to another song.

For a while he held her as best as he could in the cramped back seat. "Where do you want me to drop you off?" "I want my money. I want to go home. Do you know where Tyrion will be?" He sighed and pulled out his flip phone. It was one of the new ones with a camera. He thought about taking a quick snap of her tits but thought better of it. Later when he was regretting not having the reminder, he discovered it made a loud fake camera noise. It somehow made him regret not taking it more.

He dialed "Imp", "Let's find out."

He'd gotten a relieved Tyrion who'd demanded to talk to Sansa as if Sandor was holding her captive. If only the short bastard knew how she'd been begging him for release an hour ago.

He drove her to a gas station for a bathroom. Got her out 300 dollars and squished the bill's into her hand. "Its from the company card. I'm sure Tyrion will help you, but just to tide you over. In case they give you any shit or you have to bail."

She looked at him through mussed fringe and long lashes. He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked away from her scrutiny.

"I pulled 200 out for myself too. Might as well, before they cancel it."

She still looked uncertain.

"Would I lie to you?"

He was bewildered his snapping at her could make her grin madly until she started singing the rest of the Eurythmics song at him as he rolled his eyes and she danced in the parking lot with glee.

She hugged him.

"No you wouldn't. And I won't either. I'll miss you. I wish you could stay."

Sandor looked at her for a long while and after he couldn't build up the courage to touch her one last time, under the harsh street lights, he pulled out his keys and ushered her to the car.

He'd dropped her off. She'd looked at him once more and it'd been her who'd stolen one last kiss on his scarred cheek.

Then he'd resigned. He found her ipod in the back of the car when he turned it in. He was going to return it when he saw the name of playlist she'd had on. His playlist, from her. Then he'd gotten too drunk, gotten himself into a stupid situation, into the clink, into the prison kitchen and out on good behavior.

"All I've made is boxed Mac and Cheese."

"That's just fine, you can boil water you can make this government slop."

The Elder brother had done more for him in that year then set him up with the job in the prison kitchen. The man read too many psychology books. Sandor listened when he rambled about them. Then he'd been out and been qualified for a dishwashing job.

He liked the balance of bustle and order in a kitchen. It just felt like a fit. So after some work and some luck and a snarky rich girl who'd been slumming it to experience "the real grit, not just culinary school" He found himself at Hot Pies. In an alley. With the girl he used to chauffer. And had fucked, in the back of a car. Who, when he'd gotten out, he'd seen on a magazine cover and on commercials and on billboards. Hed even built up the courage to buy a ticket to one of her concerts once but chickened out last minute.

And through it all hed somehow kept that stupid ipod.


	2. part deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Apartment is one of my very favorite movies.

Whatever Bronn had been expecting to happen after the playlist confession he wasn't sure. He for damn sure hadn't been expecting a fight.

Brienne, having recovered from declaring Sandor a sadistic bastard several times had stormed back inside. Bronn had lingered, if only to collect himself from the vodka party in the alley they'd had, when he started to glean the tension between the co-parents of the ipod. He seemed to have melted away for the pair and he took advantage by slipping further into a shadow. He wanted to see whatever this was.

The lady fired the first shot. "I missed you."

"Like fuck you did." Clegane had his arms braced on his knees to bring himself down in height and to recover from seeing her again so close up.

"Of course I did! I never wanted you to go!"

"And what was I supposed to do then? Follow Tyrion and you around instead of Joff? Become your driver?" He scoffed at the very idea. "I don't think your boyfriend Baelish would have liked that very much."

"Leave him out if it." Bronn saw for the first time how much of her celebrity public persona she'd been holding on to til then.

"You didn't." Bronn thought it a lame attempt at some sort of innuendo, but apparently Sansa Stark spoke Clegane and didn't appreciate it.

"You haven't any right, you left! You took advantage of me, I was a child still! You took advantage and then you threw money at me and left!"

"Oh ho ho fucking no. Dont make it sound like some back alley," he gestured to their current locale at the back alley of HotPies, "seedy transaction. You were old enough to know what you were doing and I TOLD you it was the company's money."

"Well it felt like a payoff!" 

Cleganes response was to throw up his hands in protest and pace the alley in front of her.

"It, it," The girl seemed to be having trouble holding her emotions down," it was a beautiful night, you took me to the beach and I thought it meant something and then you just DROPPED me off with a wad of cash and not even a goodbye kiss!"

"Don't make it out to be some bullshit romantic-" "it WAS romantic! It was a full moon! On a beach!" "It was off a freeway ramp, and I didn't plan the moon-" "-we talked all night!" "It was the only conversation we'd ever had!" "We used to talk all the time!" "It was a mistake and it was one we both made-"

She screeched to shut him up.

"It was NOT a mistake!" 

He grabbed her by the shoulders as he used to in the Red Keep when she'd been on the brink of doing something stupid and spoke to her sternly.

"Yes it was. Look, we werent some fucking star crossed lovers, we just were both... we did what we did. I don't..." 

Her voice became small "Why did you leave?"

"Like I said, what the fuck else did you expect me to do? Trail after you? Be a chauffeur the rest of my life?"

She tried to recover, "No, of course not. I'm happy you've found your passion, I never knew you liked to cook so much-"

"Its not my fucking passion, it's a job, and I'm good at it."

She responded the way she'd used to respond to him when he snapped so rudely, by grinning.

"I thought you'd never lie to me." She tried catching his eye. "I read that one interview you did, I know you dont describe something as 'fucking brilliant' unless you're passionate about it." She poked him in the chest, "it's how you described that one thing that night-" He grabbed her pointed finger in his giant hand.

"Allright knock it off." She grinned at him harder.

He threw her hand to the side and maneuvered past her as she stayed routed in his way. "You wanna fucking eat at this stupid place, you have to let me cook in it." 

"We're not done here." She called after him.

"We never even started!" He barked over his shoulder. 

The singer was staring bemused after the door as Bronn sidled up to her. She didn't start at his materialization like most did. She simply reached out a hand and continued staring after her sparring partner and he took the hint to hand her the bottle.

She downed the bit left and handed it back with a small "Thank you. Would you tell Hot Pie I'll be in in 5?"

______________________________________

To Bronn's surprise the maestro of their torment, the ipod, was back on its throne. And playing Arctic Monkeys.

To any real music critics, they'd tell you the band was saturated and overplayed these days, almost retro. But to the kitchen staff of Hot Pie's it was like they'd heard music for the first time.

"Change it back Brienne!, or I swear- this is _my_ fucking kitchen!"

Brienne continued chopping and ignored her boss. "No. I don't know what I saw back there in that alley and I don't care all I know is there are 9,547 new songs I need to listen to right now and one of them isn't you whining in my ear."

Clegane was about to protest further when Brienne coolly spun her knife a few times and graced him with a "try me bitch" look.

After staring her down with his meanest look and getting no results, "Girls" by the Beastie Boys started to play and he stormed off to expand his wrath on some poor unsuspecting lowly kitchen staff.

Bronn joined Brienne at finishing prep as he hopped along to the fresh sound. He and Brienne made eye contact and burst out for a bar or two of "Its all I really want, GIRLS!" sharing a manic laugh of relief before continuing on with their work in better spirits.

Clegane continued on his war path around the kitchen as final preparations for the night was made. He stewed in the steady stream of gossip from the staff about their special guest until he'd heard her described lewdy one too many times and he lost it.

"ALLright, shut the fuck up. We start in 5. It's a normal night. It's normal customers. Any of you try and get too fancy or try and sneak out to listen, you're sacked. Understood?" A silent smattering if nods. "Good."

He then proceeded to run around his kitchen and critique everything from garnish to snatching away full dishes to do them himself. Only Brienne was able to guard him off with a look, Bronn just shouted at him "YES CHEF" with a salute after his boss tried to tell him how to make a dish he could make with his eyes closed.

Hot Pie bustled in to hand Clegane a small scrap of paper. "As you requested. She wants to eat before she sings. Such a class act, she's already talking us up to any of the reporters and she hasn't even eaten yet! Called Bruce by name and told them all it was the best Lemon Drop she ever had! Thank you for taking such special note of her plate, Sandor. I do appreciate it. She also has Arya with her so go light on any butter or we wont hear the end of it." Clegane had stopped listening half way through to stare at the small note Bronn now surmised was Sansa Starks order. 

Hot Pie gave some encouraging words to the rest of his troops and bustled out again.

Bronn passed his work to his second and strolled over to his boss. He was braced on the counter staring down looking like he hoped it swallowed him whole. 

Bronn swiped the note from Cleganes clenched fist. He raised an eyebrow. "We don't even make this."

"I know."

"But we're-you're going to arent you?"

"Yes."

"That must have been one hell of a night for her."

Clegane finally looked up to glare at him.

"Whatever night you made that Kraft for her I meant." Bronn raised his hands in placation and backed away. 

Brienne was rushing to the cabinet for her own work when she found Clegane in there, muttering to himself about whether or not he had time to make fresh pasta.

He saw her and pounced. A desperate look in his eye.

"How do I make a bechamel?" It came out as a plead more than a question. 

She looked at him blankly.

"You know how to make a bechamel." She shrugged his hands off her shoulders. They went to the top of the shelf where he braced himself.

Resignedly, "I do." Defeated, "How do you do it?" 

Brienne thought for a moment.

"If I help you, will you get me Sansa Starks autograph?"

"She'd give it to you herself, but yes." He could get one from Arya even if Sansa never spoke to him again. Or if he somehow gave her food poisoning. And she died.

"Fine."

Several tense minutes later the ramekin of mac and cheese left through the double doors and with it one man's desperate hopes. 

______________________________________

About a half hour after the ramekin left it had travelled back. It was daintily placed on a tray (they didn't even use trays to serve, where had they dug that up?) and escorted in by their head waiter. 

Bruce held up the tray for Sandors inspection. It looked almost licked clean. The waiter looked done with all this bullshit.

Brienne joined Cleganes scrutiny. It had been her advice not to bake it (makes it too dry) and her reputation was on the line as well. The two looked more like geologists inspecting a rare dig site rather than a home economics basic.

"She said, and I was asked here to emphasize the quote, 'it was just ok'." 

The tray and ramekin went flying through the air. 

"Allright hot shot, you wanna pull some diva fucking Gordon Ramsey bullshit, do it with someone else. I have a real job to do." The head waiter stormed out.

Brienne scooped to pick up the dish and examine it further while Sandor ran off into Bruce's direction. He'd show her "just fucking ok" she wanted to see his passion, he'd fucking show her how passionate he could be. She wasn't the first customer or critic he'd chewed out.

He burst out onto main dining floor. The room was darker than it normally was. There was a rented stage and spotlights on a woman in a beautiful black cocktail dress. Her red hair was piled up and a band was waiting at her beck and call. He knew those assholes. It was the local cover band Brothers without Bands. They were assholes. 

The drummer played a badum tsh sound at him.

As if this was a premeditated signal, it directed the singer's attention to the kitchen doors.

"There he is folks! Who I was just raving about my old friend and your head chef for tonight, Sandor Clegane!" There was some applause.

"And now that our last audience member is here we can start the show! Hit it!"

Sandor didn't know what song it was, there were horns and it certainly wasn't what he thought "acoustic" or "unplugged" meant. But she looked radiant and beaming him as the music swelled and she only left his eyes to address the audience when she started to belt out the lyrics.

He tried to sink back into the kitchen while not being able to tear his eyes away. Until the doors wouldn't swing as he expected them to. He turned to see Bronn through the porthole giving him a thumbs up and Brienne next to him helping him brace the door shut.

He went to give it one hard shove, but was too distracted by her voice. He forgot how beautiful she was when she smiled, and in fact realized he'd never seen her smile that big before. Not at the Red Keep, not at Joffrey, not at him in the rear view mirror of his car, not even on TV or a billboard. She was radiant now reaching out to her audience and their cheers, a few had started dancing. 

She went in to several more songs he knew to be her old hits. He'd stopped wrestling with the door. Brienne and Bronn took over the helm by song three, they figured Hot Pie already had a culprit for the night and they could slip under his radar.

Sandor got tired of standing in the far back and made his way to the bar at the side instead, closer to the stage, but stole the stool at the very back. 

"Maybe if you get drunk enough you'll circle around and be less of an ass." The bar staff was loyal to Bruce. Sandor thought a bartender should have known that was a bad theory but took his drink anyway. 

He watched her whole set. Stayed when they took a break and she answered more press questions. Arya found him at some point and tried to coax the story out of him again and he told her to try again later. She swore at him a bit and when she couldn't get a rise left him be. She said she see him Tuesday for their usual drink. They didn't meet up, no they just both happen to go to the same bar on the same night at the same time. Every week for a few years now. It would be stupid not to share a table.

And then the set was over and the tables were cleared and it was last call and she'd left with Arya after giving Hot Pie a kiss on the cheek as a gesture of thanks and a not bad promotional photo.

Sandor slipped back into the kitchen after the last customer. Bronn and Brienne were waiting. 

"Where's my autograph?"

"Ebay."

And he continued out the back door, before doubling back and grabbing his sparkly pink consolation prize.

______________________________________

It wasn't the last time she ate there, or performed there. It wasn't the last time he sweated in the kitchen over some dish he'd made 400 times or some new concoction. There'd been a memorable attempt at a lemon dessert Brienne found questionable, but like everything else he served her it came back completely devoured.

He had only listened to her the one night. He didn't go back out on the floor to watch. He'd caught some of just by proximity of being in the same building, but he never lingered. He heard her cover all the songs she used to play for him. She kept using the Brotherhood as her backers and they'd rode her wave to fame and started coming in more on days they weren't playing because they could afford it. Their more frequent appearances had just reiterated to Sandor what a bunch of assholes they were. Brienne had agreed after two of them had hit on her when Hot Pie gave them a tour of the kitchens.

Then she'd been gone. Hot Pie was devastated. She was on a tour/vacation and wouldn't be back indefinitely. 

The day after this announcement Brienne had walked in to a familiar glint of pink on the top shelf and the crooning or "Barnabyyyyy" before she'd ripped it off the shelf. 

She shouted over Cleganes protests, "I'm confiscating this. You can have it back when I deem you responsible enough. Oh don't look at me like that, I'll keep it nice and safe in my locker until you grab a sense of sanity." 

Bronn was a shameless gossip and told Brienne most of what he had witnessed, after her repeated protests. She didn't have an opinion, she was still mad about the lost autograph. She'd had plans for the money she thought she could get from hawking it.

Clegane didn't drink himself stupid, or let himself go or let his work slip, he simply moped more than usual.

When Sansa Stark had returned to town months later, Brienne wasn't sure who pouted more when she hadn't come back in for dinner, Hot Pie or Clegane.

Then the new seasons menu had come early and there was the addition of Mac and Cheese. "Brienne makes it. You can do it healthy if you want to."

"I'm putting my name on it and if she ever comes back in, I'm getting that autograph."

The bait had worked and Brienne insisted on serving the girl the dish herself. She was half inclined to give her a piece of her mind about the chaos she'd created, but after two minutes talking to the girl and her genuine enthusiasm for the dish, Brienne was a super fan. She wouldn't hear any criticism of the singer. And she kept the autograph she got framed and in her own kitchen at home.

Bronn and Brienne also started slipping out if they heard there favorite "ipod classics" as they'd dubbed them. It was strange to miss something they'd both loathed for so long. Sansa even took their requests at some point. 

Even before her sabbatical there had been much less press and sometimes she only sang for a few songs, other nights she called in the whole Brotherhood. Hot Pie was delighted to be a dinner and a show establishment. 

Sandor was less so. 

He started making things terrible on purpose. 

Sandor got desperate after the seventh time she'd sent Bruce back in with a cleaned plate and her usual comment to the chef (she had Bruce wrapped around her finger by this point and he delighted in telling the surly chef "it was just ok") 

"You." He pointed a threatening meaty finger at the waiter, "give her free drinks and keep her here. You." He pointed at the lowest of kitchen staff, "Go to the corner market and get me the things on this list. And be fucking quick about it." He furiously scribbled out a note and handed it to the shaking kid, who bolted.

"Don't poison her, she's a good tipper." Bruce drawled as he slipped out. He normally wouldn't have taken orders from the back of the house, but he was curious. Watching her stomach down a bite of the terrible dishes before she scraped the rest on a plate for him to dispose of had been great fun. He felt for her, but she did tip well so he did whatever she asked. 

The lowly kitchen staff returned with the plastic bag of two items.

Brienne watched in horror as he prepared the contents of the blue box and arranged it on a plate. Bronn thought she was being stuffy, it was good old fashioned comfort food. 

Clegane then also took what appeared to be a yellow packaged granola bar out, split it in half, and also arranged it artfully on a plate. 

Bruce arrived back for the order using some 6th hospitality sense that told him he was needed. 

"Do you have a wine pairing to go with this?"

"She can drink whatever the fuck she wants."

Bruce slipped out only to return what felt like a minute later. He presented the tray to Clegane. The Kraft looked like it only had a single bite taken out of it, but the granola bar was missing. 

"She took a to go box for the dessert and asked me to tell you…"

The staff strained their ears.

Bronn thought Bruce had an even more shit eating grin on his face than normal with his captive audience

"She says it was, and I quote, "Fucking brilliant""

  


______________________________________

Sansa smiled at his fuming face as he finally came out to see her. She was about to rush on the permanent stage Hot Pie had built for her when he'd reached her table in record time.

He tugged her back down to the table, not ungently, and glared at her. Her triumphant smile faltered.

"Sandor I wanted to sing-"

"No. I bloody listen to you singing all the time." "But I haven't seen you out here since-" "I own all of your records including the new one. I dont want to hear you sing right now." "But I really wanted-"

He cut her off with a sigh. He finally removed his hands from her and rubbed his face trying to think what he wanted to say.

"This isn't one of those fucking romcoms you used to watch at the Red Keep." She started to protest, offended "I know you. You think you're gonna sing some love song and then it'll be some fade to black. But I'm not going to rush the stage to duet with you and I'm not going to sit her like a prick and watch you sing just to have there be no conclusion."

She was trying to look insulted and hide her embarrassment that he had sussed her out so precisely.

"You didn't really eat all that crap did you?"

She smiled at that, "No. I went through a whole ice cold beef stew before I realized you switched tactics. Bruce has been a dear."

"He's a prick, you shouldn't waste your money on him."

"You're the one who taught me how to tip properly." "I wasn't teaching you how to tip, those were bribes and payoffs." "Same thing."

She finally got a grin out of him for that.

"I don't want to sing for you either. I want to hear you talk. I missed your voice." He scoffed at that. "And I have no idea how you got here, you don't give many interviews, I've searched and Arya wont tell me anything."

Sandor was almost touched by the fussy chefs discretion.

So he talked, and ordered Bruce to bring him back the Kraft she hadn't finished. He didn't put his nose up at it either. 

And then she talked and filled him in on Baelish and why it took her so long to reunite with her family. They closed down the place and left together. 

They found other places to meet at after that night. 

The next day after their late night Bronn came in to Sandor docking in his every day smart phone. He placed the pink glittery ipod on the highest, safest shelf, out of the way. 

Then he went to the white board and wrote "Spotify Playlist: backkithcnHP. NO speed metal, it's too loud"

Bronn rushed to pull out his own phone and add nothing but "What's New Pussycat" and "Mr. Big Stuff". But the second song wasn't licensed or something and he couldn't add it. 

He didn't know much speed metal but he added as much as he could of that instead. 

There was no confessions to his friends or public declarations. No finale show stopping performance ending in Sandor rushing the stage to kiss her. But a few months in, a framed photo of her showed up in his office. And he finally took a vacation. But other than that Bronn or Brienne didn't get any sort of conclusion.

She still played for Hot Pie on occasion. And Sandor occasionally took a break from work to listen. He finally acquiesced to listening through a whole rendition of "Would I lie to you" backed by the entire Brotherhood to her glee.

Every once in a while, when Bronn or Brienne came in early or were otherwise in the kitchen by themselves, they'd both sneak the ipod off its shelf and play their favorites from it. Bronn, because he couldn't add the copyrighted version of "Mr. Big Stuff" he wanted and Brienne because she didn't want the piss taken out of her for being such a Sheryl Crow fan. 

Both would whistle or hum their favorites at Sandor aggressively if he was ever pissing them off. 

  


_I'd rather give my love to a poor guy that has a love that's true (oh yeah)_

_Than to be fooled around and get hurt by you_

_Cause when I give my love, I want love in return (oh yeah)_

_Now I know this is a lesson Mr. Big Stuff you haven't learned_

_Mr. Big Stuff, tell me_

_Who do you think you are_

_Mr. Big Stuff_

_You're never gonna get my love_

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont own the lyrics I dont own the charecters.  
> I know like, almost none of the kitchen stuff makes sense or i didnt use any real terms (i was too lazy to google) you cant pull out 500$ from a gas station atm, I think the police would keep the ipod (I would) ? The timeline makes no sense? but who cares?  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
